Never Fades, Never Alters
by maybabyvincent
Summary: The Phantom disappeared after the chandelier crash, and is now living in the modern day with the Cullens as a vampire. For a hundred years, Erik mourns the death of Christine, but when a girl with a voice more heavenly than hers appears, he finds he can't stay away. WARNING: SOME M RATED CHAPTERS. Warnings will be posted prior to chapter. Erik/OC
1. Prologue

Story officially given to me by AvalonJane. First chapter is identical.

**Prologue**

Chapter inspired by Monster You Made by Pop Evil

_Take a good look at me now_

_Do you still recognize me?_

_Am I so different inside?_

_This world is trying to change me_

_And I admit I don't want to change with it_

_And I admit I can't go on like this anymore_

_Erase this monster I've become_

_Forgive me for all the damage done_

_It's not over, say it's not over_

_I'm begging for mercy_

_I'm only the monster you made me_

_I'm better alone now_

_See I'm torn from my mistakes_

_And I stop believing that I could ever make things change_

_How much can I take?_

_When I know that it hurts you_

_How long can I wait_

_When I can't go on like this anymore_

_Because who I am_

_Isn't who I used to be_

_And I'm not invincible_

_I'm not indestructible_

_I'm only human_

_Can't you see?_

_The beauty in me_

_Take a good look at me now_

_Can't you see I've changed?_

_Erase this monster you've made me_

* * *

Betrayal. Hurt. So much hurt. Pain. Indescribable pain coursed through him. What did he have left now? Nothing. He was alone. He would be alone and feel this unbearable pain for all eternity.

But there was a way out of it. He could end all his suffering once and for all. Why hadn't he thought of this before? He thought he'd actually had a chance. A chance at being saved, being accepted, being loved. But no. She'd abandoned him just as everyone he'd dared to care about had. He shouldn't expected any better and he knew it.

Just a little more than usual and it would be done. All he would have to do is wait. Soon he'd be free of the cursed feeling of loneliness.

These feelings and thoughts swirled around in taunting circles in the Opera Ghost's mind. They had been since the day he was old enough to comprehend them. Now, he didn't care anymore. He didn't want to fight them. He wanted to let them consume him and swallow him whole. He wanted to be free.

He injected the morphine and immediately felt the numbing relief wash over him, inch by inch. The syringe fell to the floor and the sound of its impact resounded throughout his lair. But he could have sworn it sounded unusual, as though there was a similar noise invading its sound. And there was.

Footsteps. Small, yet firm. Confident and scared at the same time.

Antoinette.

That was all he could think before he collapsed onto the floor with the syringe. He wouldn't miss life. He would welcome death, whether he was placed in the sky or in the fires below. Anything was better than this. He didn't feel sad that it was over, if anything, he felt happy. A happiness he'd never felt before in his life. The happiness that came with being released from your restrains. The happiness of finally being free.

* * *

A sensation. People were touching him. They were moving him, moving quickly, as though they were in a hurry. Four men, he calculated in his mind. Warm hands, most sweating. But one set was cold. Unnaturally cold. He attempted to ignore it.

He couldn't see. He figured his eyes were closed, but he couldn't open them. He tried but continuously failed. He was lying down now. The men were talking, but he couldn't understand the words. Something inside him was burning and he felt like he would be sick. He couldn't do anything.

Once again he heard footsteps, they were leaving. He counted… one… two… three…

He waited but the fourth man never left. He was still in the room with him. He was talking aloud to himself. Or he was talking to him. But either way, he wasn't going to get any kind of response.

Silence fell. It consumed him for what seemed like hours. But then, everything happened so fast.

The cold hands were on him. Something cutting into his skin. A stinging running through his veins, more unbearable than any pain he'd ever felt. His eyes opened, but all he could see was white and red. Tears slipped past his eyes and down his cheeks.

The man pulled back, releasing him from his grip. The look in his eyes was sorrowful, as if he regretted what he'd just done with every fiber in his being. They locked eyes, speaking without words. The pain continued and then subsided. Somehow, he knew he was dead, but felt more alive than ever before.

* * *

_108 years later_

The year was 2008, and he'd adjusted quickly to the life he was living now. It was violent, and bloody, but it wasn't any more so than what he'd known before. Their family grew over the years that passed, and he knew it would with the years to come.

He had his own room, plus a room specifically for his music. Every instrument he knew how to play was there. Every night he would compose, no longer needing to sleep at all, even though he did little of it before.

They'd moved to a town in Washington, and a brother of his, Edward, had fallen for a human girl, who was now a new addition to their seemingly ever growing family. In addition, they'd had a child, who he immediately had a strong friendship with.

He was happy. At least, he thought he was.

Every day he would stop and stare at himself in the mirror. After more than a hundred years, he still didn't believe what he saw. He was attractive. He'd been informed of that many times by the many girls who'd fallen for him. He looked young, younger than he'd been when he was turned. He felt as though he was a different person. The man living under the opera house, fighting for Christine's love would be overjoyed with these improvements. But now, after all he had seen and all he'd gone through, he didn't appreciate it at all. He felt it was just another mask, one he could never take off.

But it was worse than that. He was everything he'd ever scorned. He was beautiful, young, rich, loved. But now, he didn't want any of it. He found no joy in these things and the only happiness he found anymore was either with his family, or composing. That, and partaking in the musicals that were held at his newest school. They weren't anything compared to the glorious operas they'd perform at the Populaire, but he'd take what he could get.

They'd done tons of shows, Wicked, Oliver, Les Mis. But the next show, he was torn about. They were putting on Phantom of the Opera and he couldn't decide if he wanted to audition, or if he would completely avoid the auditorium until the production was over.

But that could wait, he decided as he, once again faced himself in the mirror. He was wearing a black button down shirt and dark jeans, something he was appalled with when he first saw. He fought back a grimace of disgust. He couldn't win, could he? When he was deformed, he hated his appearance too much to look at himself, and yet, now that he was acceptable by society's standards, he was disgusted by the message his looks projected.

He could barely recognize himself. But inside he was unchanged. He thought the same things, wanted the same things, and felt the same feelings he'd felt before. Including his undying love for Christine.

She remained his muse long after word had gone around that the famous soprano was supposedly killed in an accident while traveling to her latest performance. He'd mourned her for months, dedicating several new compositions to her beauty, voice, innocence, everything he could give sound he did.

But sometimes he couldn't help like this was her fault.

If she'd just loved him, learned to see past his mask and deformity, things would have been so much different. So much _better._

He would have been loved by the one person he dared to love himself. He would have had everything.

But then _he_ came. He waltzed in and stole her away, sweeping her off her feet. And she left him. Betrayed him. She turned him into the monster everyone believed he was by rejecting him. The one person whose denial he couldn't handle. The one person who had the power to break him. And he turned into a savage. He did before he had time to think. He regretted so much he'd done.

And now he was an entirely different kind of monster. One who could, thankfully, control himself to a certain extent. In addition, he had his family, who would be with him always.

But he was still a monster. And inside he was still the Opera Ghost. He was still the Angel of Music. The Trap Door Lover. The Phantom of the Opera. That would never change.

"Hi Erik!" A voice greeted. Alice.

"Hey." He returned, breaking himself from the mirror to face his sister.

"You ready to go?" She asked, grabbing the keys to her car and putting on her scarf and sun glasses.

"I guess so." Erik shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and following Alice to the car.


	2. Stranger

_**Chapter inspired by Stranger by Katie Costello** _

_Stranger I've known you for so long_

_I found you lost with a compass in the fog_

_Stranger you know me too much_

_Illusionary-self had not been touched, until you_

_Humming Hallelujah in the dark_

_Whispered poems leave you to be_

_Humming Hallelujah in the night_

_The sun might rise, as sometimes does it fall_

_Hallelujah, hallelujah_

_Stranger you've followed me so far_

_Until the roads converged, as did the stars_

_Stranger the moon looks blue tonight_

_Your photo framed, raw within my mind, but not tonight_

_Humming Hallelujah in the dark_

_Whispered poems leave you to be_

_Humming Hallelujah in the night_

_The sun might rise, as sometimes does it fall_

May Vincent walked through the doors of the high school auditorium. On the stage, the cast was busy choreographing a musical number she was all too familiar with.

_Masquerade! Paper faces on parade!_

_Masquerade! _

_Hide your face so the world will never find you!_

She snaked behind the singing chorus dressed in colorful costumes, making her way towards the stage manager, Mr. Moran.

"Ah, May! So we haven't scared you off, yet?" He joked seeing his newest crew member had returned to fulfill her duties.

"Of course not! I love it here." May responded.

She did love this place. She loved the music and the costumes and the sets and everything in between. The only thing she didn't love was the job she had. May didn't actually mind too much being nothing more than a part of the running crew; it was a lot of fun. But on stage was where she craved to be. May liked to believe she had both the vocal and acting ability to thrive in show business; it was the lack of nerve that stopped her. Even if she had bothered to audition, May would have ran out in tears before a single note could have been sung. By anyone.

Luckily for her, she didn't need to audition to be a stagehand. So May gave one hundred and ten percent, came to every rehearsal, even when she wasn't needed, and helped in every way she could have. And she had to admit, these guys were good.

The two love interests, Raoul and Christine, she was pretty sure the character's names were, portrayed realistic chemistry. Not to mention their voices harmonized perfectly. Whenever they sang their duet together, May felt giddy, as though she was actually being serenaded by her Prince Charming, or whatever he was. Christine on her own, though, May felt, didn't have the skill to guide the beautifully intricate songs to their full potential. But she knew she really shouldn't be talking, at least Christine could get on the stage in the first place.

The rest of the leading roles, the two managers, the ballet girl and her mother, and the original prima donna and her leading man, were just astounding. The two songs that revolved around the threatening notes they'd been receiving went on without a flaw every time, and the entwining parts of them, in which no one said the same thing as another, were executed impeccably.

And then there was the title character, the Phantom of the Opera. God could he sing. May would almost always stop what she was doing to listen to it if she was able to. She noticed the affect he'd had on basically every female cast member. Most of them would swoon and fawn over him, as though he was the most perfect thing they'd ever laid eyes on. She even caught the Christine actress shamelessly flirting with him from time to time. Every time, though, he would put her down, sometimes quite rudely. There was something in the way Phantom looked at Christine, especially when she was singing. His character was meant to be madly in love with hers, but he seemed to discretely glare at her in annoyance whenever a melody flowed from her mouth. No one seemed to notice but May.

"Well, I hope you realize how much we need your help. You've quickly become a crucial part of this production." Mr. Moran continued.

"I'm just a stagehand. One of, like, thirty stagehands." May dismissed, modest as ever.

"A stagehand that has probably put in more hours and effort than all the leading roles combined." Mr. Moran insisted. May knew it was meant to be an exaggeration, but for a moment wondered if there was truth behind it. "People are taking notice of your devotion to this production. People who can reward you with leading roles." He suggested.

"Oh no," May said quickly, shaking her head in disapproval, "no, my place is backstage. I could never be good enough to even try and compete with these guys. They're phenomenal."

"You could be too." Mr. Moran comforted. "You never know unless you try."

There was a silence as May awkwardly stood there, attempting to think of a way to excuse herself politely. Mr. Moran had more still to stay, however.

"I've seen the way you look at them when they're rehearsing, May. You want to be on stage next to them. There's nothing stopping you—"

"Yes there is." May interrupted, feeling even more awkward than before. "What if I mess up? What if they think I'm not good enough, I mean look at their standards!" May pointed at the cast that was now performing a dance routine to an instrumental portion of the song.

"All I'm saying is, you never know until you try." Mr. Moran repeated, putting his hands up in submission.

"Then I guess I'll never know." May said, looking back at the musical number. Mr. Moran dismissed himself and she was left standing alone.

"_Hide your face so the world will never find you" _May sang softly with the cast, walking off to perform her tasks for the day.

About halfway through the rehearsal, May was backstage labeling the pulleys so she would know which one did what function. The cast was taking a break to rest and rehydrate, and she heard footsteps and voices approaching from behind her.

"So if you aren't busy," Christine said, "we should go get some coffee after rehearsal."

May knew who the actress was talking to without having to turn around. She could almost feel Phantom's annoyance seeping off of him.

"Listen, Erin, you're a nice girl, but I'm not interested." He said, quickly getting to the point.

Erin scoffed

"You don't know what you're doing." She snapped bitterly. "Any guy in the whole school would buy me coffee in a heartbeat."

"Well, why don't you ask one of them, then?" He said coolly, which had pissed Erin off. She stomped out towards the girl's dressing room, but not before running smack into May.

"Watch it stagehand!" Erin yelled at May, who would have fired back, but Erin was long gone.

May stared after her, about to return to her labeling, but felt as though she was being watched. She turned to see Phantom staring at her as though she'd just killed his dog.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, but got no response except him sweeping his eyes over, taking in her appearance. Judging her. "Can I help you with something?" May asked with a bit of frustration in her tone. She had better things to do with her time than be a picture book.

"Who are you?" He asked her. "I've never seen you here before." His tone was offensive, as though he was trying to make May feel bad about herself.

"I'm May. And I find that surprising, because I'm here pretty much all the time." She responded, speaking as though to a child.

He seemed shocked, either by her tone or her response.

_She's here all the time and I didn't notice?_

Erik liked to know exactly what was going on with productions. He wanted to know the names of all the cast members, stagehands, lighting people. Everyone. Mr. Moran and Mrs. Price, the director, could only do so much, and Erik took it upon himself to make sure everyone was performing their duties correctly.

He was about to say something. May didn't know if he was going to apologize, or criticize her for the way in which she'd spoken to him. Either way, she would never know.

From onstage, the director called the cast to reconvene. May turned her head towards the voice, and then looked back at Phantom, only to find he'd disappeared.

The rehearsal proceeded normally, but Erik noticed that he kept finding the girl.

_May._ He reminded himself. _Her name is May._

There was something different about her. Mostly the fact that she hadn't melted at the sight of him. Not only that. She was different from the other stagehands, he knew that immediately. It was the way she looked at the cast while they were practicing. Most stagehands look right past them, too busy figuring out how to make the show look as good as possible. But he saw her constantly just staring at them, especially when Erin was singing. It was a look filled with longing.

_Well then why is she a stagehand? Even if her voice isn't __**flawless**__, she could have one of the parts in the beginning or something. Why a stagehand?_

He decided to drop it. The last time he got involved like that with someone, it ended badly. Granted, his intentions were much different. But it would be better to avoid going down that road all together.

He was about to sing Point of No Return with Erin. God this was Erik's _least_ favorite part of the show. He knew Erin enjoyed it though; he had to act like he was madly in love with her, and sing a song about passion and lust.

He was on stage, wearing the cloak over his head so _Christine_ wouldn't know it was him. God he wanted to kill himself.

_Past the point of no return_

_ No backward glances_

_ Our games of make believe are at an end_

He was behind her on the bench. This was the part where he was meant to grab a certain part of Erin's chest. He hated this part the most. And Erin, ever the demented boy crazy girl she was, loved it, making it ten times worse. His hands glided up her legs, then up her stomach. Then the deed was done, and Erik felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Erin bolted up and began to run off.

_You have brought me_

_To that moment when words run dry _

_Yeah, no kidding._ Erik thought sarcastically. He wanted this to be over more than he'd ever wanted anything before.

He looked back over at May, who was talking to Mr. Moran about the candles in the Phantom's lair. Apparently, there was a timing problem; one set rose quicker than the others. He'd have to make sure that got taken care of later. He'd zoned out, to the point where he almost missed the cue to grab Erin's wrist and begin to drag her offstage. He snapped out of it just in time, though and now he and Erin were playing tug of war with each other. Everything was running smoothly, just as it was choreographed.

All of a sudden, a horrendous sound escaped Erin's mouth. It was a flat out croak, no way around it. Erik dropped her wrist in disgust. The music stopped, and everyone was staring at Erin in shock. May included. Even though her voice wasn't necessarily to May's liking, she never sounded _that_ bad.

"What are you all staring at?" Erin snapped. "It happens to every singer at _some_ point. Play the song!" She demanded at the conductor. He turned back around to face the orchestra, slightly afraid of the blonde's wrath.

_Past the point of no return_

_No going back n-_

She croaked again, this time it was even worse. Erik cringed in response to the dreadful noise. A quiet rumble of voices filled the auditorium. Everyone was talking about her. They were judging her. She felt humiliated and embarrassed. Erin couldn't stop herself from grabbing her purse and bolting from the auditorium. The whispers and mumbles immediately halted. Their leading lady just walked out on them, and no one knew if she'd be back. Then again, they weren't all that sure she wanted her back.

No one wanted to be the one to speak first, but eventually someone had to.

"I think that's enough for today..." Mrs. Price began. Worry was evident in her voice. You couldn't put on Phantom of the Opera without a Christine! "Let's all just go home and pick it up tomorrow." She began to gather

"What about Erin?" One of the Ballet Girls spoke up.

Another silence.

"If she doesn't come back to rehearsal," Mrs. Price sorrowfully reasoned, "then I suppose we'll have to recast the part of Christine."

If they were lucky someone would be good enough. And have the ability to learn what everyone else had been working on all year in a matter of months. Mrs. Price's head began to pound.

While everyone else's minds were filled with concern and worry, Erik smiled inside. It wasn't likely they'd cast someone whose voice he genuinely liked, but at least they'd be more tolerable than Erin. He'd make sure of that.

The cast began to leave. Erik was taking his time, admiring the auditorium. The lights were dimmed the way they were for performances. If he imagined a little bit, he was back in the Opera Populaire. He stepped up onto the stage, reminiscing the fateful night they'd performed his opera.

He slowly inhaled, then allowed sound to be released from within him.

_Past the point of no return_

_No backward glances_

_Our games of make believe are at an end_

He slowly stepped around the stage, singing with everything he had and relishing in the haunting and chilling sound of his voice being echoed throughout the empty auditorium.

_Past all thought of if or when_

_No use resisting_

_Abandon thought and let the dream descend_

He continued. He breathed in again, preparing to sing the next phrase, but he sensed a presence behind the door leading to the practice rooms and dressing rooms behind the stage. He bolted to the shadows, wanting to know who else had stayed after and why.

The door opened and May walked out. She walked onto the stage, seeming to be leaving. But she noticed the set around her, the set from Don Juan Triumphant. She walked over to the picnic table and started fidgeting with the fake fruits on it. She looked around the auditorium, checking to make sure no one else was there. Erik noticed the look of relief that came across her face as she visibly relaxed.

Walking in a circle around the table, she began to hum, still working up the courage. Eventually, she opened her mouth and sang.

Erik had not been expecting this- not at all. As she sang through the beginning of Christine's verse, she sang with shyness, but there was resonance and clarity and emotion. Her voice touched his soul as she continued on.

_Past the point of no return_

_No going back now_

_Our passion play has now at last begun_

_Past all thought of right or wrong_

_One final question_

_How long should we two wait before we're one?_

_When will the blood begin to race?_

_The sleeping bud burst into bloom?_

_When will the flames at last consume us?_

May's heart stopped as she continued. She was not alone as she had thought. Someone was there with her and sang with her, their voices combining in a perfect harmony.

_Past the point of no return_

_The final threshold_

_The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn_

She stopped, her stage fright getting the best of her. The voice finished the song, then a silence consumed the two strangers.

"Why did you stop?" The voice asked, sounded slightly annoyed but yet totally and completely enamored with her.

"I'm sorry…" May whispered, not knowing what else to say. She began to leave, not receiving any response from the stranger.

"Wait!" He called out to her. She turned back around, towards the direction of the voice from where she was standing on the edge of the stage. After another short silence, a figure emerged from the shadows, and when she recognized the face, she wished that she was dead.

Erik stepped closer, but only so that he was still about five feet away from her. He didn't want to scare her more than he already had.

"You're amazing…" He whispered, still not believing a stagehand had a voice this spectacular.

"No I'm not…" She replied blushing. "Please don't tell anyone about this… About me singing."

"Why not?" Erik asked, confused. "They're looking for a new Christine, you'd be perfect!"

"No I can't do that. I'm sorry, I-" She stuttered in embarrassment, "I have to go."

With that May ran as fast as her legs would carry her out of the auditorium and to her car. She drove home, trying, but failing to forget what had just happened.

Meanwhile, Erik stood staring after the girl. He was confused, to say the least. How could someone with a voice so beautiful have stage fright? He swore to himself, though, that he would have to get rid of that. He knew that no one was more fit to be on stage than her.

Erik had found their new Christine.


	3. Dead Wrong

The next two chapters are short for obvious reasons. Chapter 5 will be the normal length. Thank you for reviewing by the way! You all are very sweet to take time to do that and it makes me very happy to know you're enjoying it so far.

Chapter 3. Dead Wrong

Chapter inspired by Dead Wrong by the Fray

_If only I knew what I know_

_I'd make it a point to say so_

_To everyone that got me here_

_And everyone that made it_

_Clear I was dead wrong all along_

_You said it for my sake_

_That I would not lose my way_

_When I was astray ..._

_I'm doing the best that I could._

_Trying my best to be understood_

_Maybe I'm changing slowly_

_I get out, turn around if only I..._

_Knew I was dead wrong all along_

_You said it for my sake_

_that I would not lose my way_

_When I was dead wrong all along_

_Mine is not a new story_

_Mine is not a new story_

_Mine is nothing new_

_But it is for me_

_So I was dead wrong all along_

_You said it for my sake_

_I don't, would not, lose my way..._

_When I was dead wrong all along_

_You said it for my sake_

_That I would not lose my way_

_Did I really lose my way?_

_Or are you afraid?_

May stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She leaned back against the cool wood, listening for some kind of indication that someone else was home. When she heard none, she breathed out a sigh of relief. She didn't exactly expect her parents to be home anyways, they were almost always working, and when they weren't, they were out and about town indulging in the pleasures of being considerably wealthy.

Her father was a doctor, her mother was a real estate agent, and they wanted her to be a lawyer.

"It's a very well-paying job, May." They would remind her whenever she brought up the possibility of majoring in anything else but law. "Trust us; you'll be happy in the end."

May knew she wouldn't be. She knew it all, though. May was literally a textbook for anything related to law study. Her parents started teaching her the basics pretty much as soon as she was able to read and speak. However, it was already decided. Her parents had all but shipped her to Harvard. No, she would be a lawyer and that would be that.

But that didn't mean she couldn't dream. Her dream was to perform on Broadway, or wherever they would take her. She loved it. Phantom of the Opera was one of her favorite musicals as a child, and even now as a teenager, she found time in her life to watch it and enjoy it for the wonder it truly was. Andrew Lloyd Webber was nothing short of a genius. Her personal favorite was the 25th Anniversary cast. Sierra Boggess was her inspiration. May hoped that one day she could be as amazing as she was. And Ramin Karimloo portrayed the Phantom perfectly. She had the biggest crush on him when she was fourteen. While other girls were drooling over boybands and Hollywood actors, she was constantly replaying Music of the Night just to hear his gorgeous voice.

And when she'd heard the high school was putting on the show, May couldn't stay away. She had given herself pep talks at least once a day, trying to work up the courage to audition. When the day came, she couldn't do. Somehow she'd talked her way into a job as a stage hand. Turns out she was pretty good at it; she credited it to her severe case of OCD. Everything had to be in its exact place or she'd have a meltdown.

She walked up the stairs and to her room, dropping her schoolbag on the floor. She flopped down on her canopy bed, sinking in its softness. She stared up at her ceiling, remembering for the hundredth time that night the events that had happened after rehearsals.

"You're amazing." He'd told her. "You'd be perfect."

May felt the blush returning to her face again. He was the first person who'd complimented her voice, but then again, he was the first person to have heard it. She only sung when she was positive she was alone, her stage-fright too dominant to risk letting anyone hear her. She would play a soundtrack on her computer and would sing along while she did her homework. Years and years of this and trying to match the sounds made by the professionals helped her improve a bit. In her opinion, she still wasn't very good, but wasn't horrible either. But he'd said she was amazing. Perfect for the part of Christine no less, so how bad could she really be? Hope began to flutter in her chest. Maybe there was hope for her yet. Now all she had to do was get over this annoying stage-fright.

But could she really tell her parents she wanted to abandon the practicality of being an attorney in favor of living out her dreams? Would they even try to understand? Probably not, but she could try.

She could prove them wrong. Show them she was meant for more than standing in front of a courthouse every day. She would need to get some help training her voice, that was for sure. In order to impress her parents, she would need to be better than "amazing," she would need to be flawless.

May would find someone though. Someone who could teach her to sing like Sierra Boggess or Idina Menzel, or Samantha Barks. Maybe then she could show them that they were wrong. Dead wrong.

She changed into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and climbed into bed, turning off her bedside lamp. She shut her eyes and pulled the covers up over her shoulders to keep warm. Tomorrow, as soon as school was over, she would start looking for someone to help her. She was sure she could miss one rehearsal; after all, she wasn't scheduled to be there anyways.

Tomorrow was the start of a new chapter in her life.


	4. All at Once

Okay, so I have a request for a Spotify playlist with the music used/mentioned in this. For those of you who don't know, Spotify is a free music application for the computer/iPad (unless you're okay with shuffle mode, then it's on the iPhone and iPod. And you may or may not be able to get it on android...) Just go to the Spotify homepage and download. It's perfectly safe and free.

Once there, I'm pretty sure you just search the name of the playlist, which is the name of the story "Never Fades, Never Alters," and you'll be able to listen to it. As of now it is up and available, and will be updated along with the chapters.

The song Erik plays is something along the lines of "Song for Julie" by Gemma Hayes. It's in the playlist. Next chapter with be up as soon as possible and will be a much longer length than the previous two. Also, the Fray will be a common artist used for the beginning, just because their lyrics very much apply to the plit at the moment. Next chapter will most likely be them again, and I'm not sure if they'll be used in the future, though they probably will be

Enjoy! (Oh and if you like it, or if you don't, pretty please review because it makes me happy and I'll update faster.) And to Erik'sGuest/E.G. thank you for reviewing and his ability(ies) will be made known in the next chapter.

Chapter 4: All At Once

_Chapter inspired by All At Once by the Fray_

_There are certain people you just keep coming back to_

_She is right in front of you_

_You begin to wonder could you find a better one_

_Compared to her now she's in question_

_And all at once the crowd begins to sing_

_Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same_

_Maybe you want her, maybe you need her_

_Maybe you started to compare to someone not there_

Erik went home, all the while thinking about what had just happened. Also about how he was going to address the situation of May's shyness. He would also need to teach her some basic techniques in order to improve. Her voice was naturally amazing, but her lack of professional training was evident to someone like him. No she would need a bit of work. But he was beyond eager to get started.

He looked at the portrait of Christine that hung on the wall of his music room. Every day he would come home, look a her face, and he would break. He spent about twenty minutes every night in tears and the rest composing either angry melodies or sad lullabies for the soprano who died too soon.

But tonight he looked at it, and he didn't fall to his knees in grief. There was still that pang of emptiness that was always there whenever he thought of her, but it was bearable. He looked at her and realized that he'd already replaced her.

Erik felt awful. He'd spent so long devoted to her and her alone. She was his muse, the being that inspired everything he ever created. And now some random girl sings one song and he instantaneously jumps at the chance to train her voice, just like he'd done with Christine. He ventured to his piano and hovered his fingers above the keys, unsure for the first time of what he was to create.

After a moment, his hands moved of their own accord and he was composing. Anyone could have noticed the significant difference between this piece and his previous ones. Usually his music was violent and jarring, like someone experiencing severe mood swings. But this was different in the sense that it was calm and yet afraid and insecure. It was new.

He played until he felt he couldn't anymore. Standing, he looked at Christine's emotionless face once again, finally understanding.

It was time to move on. Time to find a new muse and be content with what that would bring him. And if anyone here was meant to be his second chance it was May. He would teach her everything he knew and guide her to success. But he would remain detached from her, though, to prevent complications like those that happened with Christine. However, at the thought of it, he doubted himself. Could he really have moved on this quickly? Having a singer become his new student was one thing, but taking over the place that Christine held in his heart? He knew that teaching May would be the death of him, if she could affect him this easily.

Maybe he was never meant to be with Christine. Perhaps that was simply a step towards coming here and meeting May. True, he had believed he had loved Christine, but he was now beginning to question it. Was it love or lust? And as for May, it was too soon to tell what his feelings towards her were truly. For the moment, it was interest, nothing more or less. But it was possible he would venture down the same road with May as he had with Christine, or he could possibly win her affections should he desire to do so. He knew he needed her to be his student at the least. Erik wouldn't be able to live with it if someone else could handle her voice and not him.

He turned and walked out the door, looking back at the painting one last time before turning off the light.


	5. That Voice Which Calls to Me

Chapter 5: That Voice Which Calls to Me

_Chapter inspired by Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber_

_In sleep he sang to me_

_In dreams he came_

_That voice which calls to me_

_And speaks my name_

_And do I dream again_

_For now I find_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside my mind_

_Sing once again with me_

_Our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_Grows stronger yet_

_And though you turn from me_

_To glance behind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your mind._

_Those who have seen your face_

_Draw back in fear_

_I am the mask you wear_

_It's me they hear_

_Your/My spirit and my/your voice_

_In one combined_

_The Phantom of the Opera is here_

_Inside my/your mind_

_He's there, the phantom of the opera!_

_Beware, the phantom of the opera!_

_In all your fantasies,_

_You always knew_

_That man and mystery_

_Were both in you_

_And in this labyrinth_

_Where night is blind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is here,_

_Inside my/your mind_

_My Angel of Music!_

_He's there, the Phantom of the Opera_

May wanted this school day to be over more than anything. The sooner she got out, the sooner she could start looking for a tutor. It was the end of the day and she couldn't help but stare intently at the clock. She was excited to say the lease.

Erik was excited too, but for an entirely different reason. He planned to confront May at rehearsals and offer to help her come out of her shell. He'd practiced the conversation a million times in his mind and he was confident it would go over well. However, it was now the last ten minutes before school ended and rehearsals began and he was beginning to have doubts. _What if she's so embarrassed by last night she'll say no? What if she doesn't want my help?_

He knew he couldn't stand by and let such talent be wasted due to her lack of confidence.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Both May and Erik were the first to leave their classes, each eager to get to their next destination. Erik walked into the auditorium, eyes searching for May, but was not able to find her. _She's probably still on her way_ he reasoned.

However, by that time May was already online, searching the internet for the best possible voice coach available, in her price range and town of course. There were hundreds in just her area alone, most with great ratings and reviews. However one stood out to May, and she called him. After a pleasant conversation in which May explained her situation and her parent's disdain for her wanting to pursue a career in musical theatre, they scheduled an appointment to meet formally the next day. May giddily hung up the phone and set it down on her desk, proud that she'd accomplished her task in such a short amount of time. Then something struck her, she'd only been home for half an hour, meaning rehearsals were still going on. May grabbed her bag and her phone and got in her car, driving back to school just to be surrounded by the thing she loved most.

_Sing once again with me_

_Our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_Grows stronger yet_

Erik sang as he pretended to pull an imaginary Christine down to the Phantom's Lair. Erin decided not to come back, but rehearsals had to proceed as originally scheduled, and _today _they were scheduled to practice the title song. With or without a Christine.

No one was really focused that day, but most of them were just worried about the production. Who would be able to learn the biggest part of the show before opening night? Mrs. Price was obviously stressing, and that was just making things worse. When Mrs. Price is stressed, she turns into a perfectionist. While they were almost always on point with everything, they were people, and they made mistakes. And whenever Mrs. Price caught one of these mistakes, she would go on a rant about how close they were to opening night and if they didn't get better they would make the whole show look like a joke.

While Mrs. Price, the crew, and the rest of the cast were worrying about their beloved show, Erik was worrying about May. Why hadn't she come to rehearsal? Granted it was possible that she wasn't scheduled for that one, but didn't she say she was here all the time? So where was she?

_In all your fantasies_

_You always knew_

_That man and mystery_

Erik sang his part, pretending someone was singing Christine's. Preferably May. He was standing in the remote controlled gondola and pretending to row it as he sang to a still invisible Christine. The mask on his face was irritating him, having gotten used to not wearing one all the time. He just wanted to go home and compose. He'd been anticipating today, and he was greatly disappointed with how things worked out.

_And in this labyrinth _

_Where night is blind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your mind_

As he helped imaginary Christine out of the boat, he heard the front door of the auditorium open. He couldn't believe what he saw, though he was eternally grateful for it.

May walked in to find Erik rehearsing the title song without Erik, meaning that she didn't bother to come back after what happened yesterday. _That means they're going to hold auditions for her part…_ May realized. She noticed Erik stopped paying attention and was now focusing on her as she walked towards the stage. The theme from the musical began to play, signaling Erik's line.

_ My_ _Angel of Music_

He continued to stare at May as he recited the line. Mrs. Price then told the orchestra to stop. Why bother to play the final part of the song if Christine wasn't there to sing it? His eyes followed her as she walked to Mr. Moran and began a discussion. Every few seconds, she would glance back at him, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

It was then Mrs. Price called everybody together to have a discussion, which everyone knew was about Erin and the part of Christine.

"As you all know," she began with a frustrated sigh, "Erin has not come back and we have no choice but to have someone take her place. So, although we need a new actress in the position of Christine, it would be too much to ask anyone to audition for such a role on such short notice. For this reason, auditions will be held next Friday. Please come with a song you feel represents the character and be prepared to perform the final section of the title song in addition to a few of Christine's lines from the show. I wish you all the best of luck." She finished, dismissing the cast for the day.

May decided to stay after with Mr. Moran and the other stagehands to do some fixing up backstage and onstage. They were currently addressing the issue of the mistimed candelabra during the first lair sequence. May was onstage, watching the candles from up close to ensure their timing was exact, and another stagehand was backstage handling technical stuff she couldn't even try to understand.

"Is it good, May?" he asked after the candles rose for what seemed the fiftieth time that night.

"No," May called back frustrated, "now it's rising faster than the other ones."

"Damn." The other stagehand swore under his breath. After a few more minutes with no success, the stagehand decided they needed a break.

"Hey, I'm gonna grab some sodas from the machine outside, what do you want?" He offered her, holding up his wallet, letting her know that he was going to pay.

"Coke for me, thanks." May responded politely. He nodding in acknowledgement and left through the back door to get the drinks. May hadn't realized that everyone had else had gone home, and, for the moment at least, she was the only one here.

Just like the night before, she started by humming, singing only in her mind. She eventually began to sing, hoping no one was there to hear this time.

_Angel of Music_

_ Guide and Guardian_

_ Grant to me your glory_

_ Angel of Music _

_ Hide no longer_

_ Secret and strange Angel _

May's worst fear came true once again as a voice responded to her song. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a face or a name to it. It was nothing short of hypnotic, and she found herself lost in it as he sang to her.

_Flattering child you shall know me_

_ See why in shadow I hide_

_ Look at your face in the mirror_

_ I am there inside!_

Sure enough, when May obeyed the voice and faced the trick mirror, a masked figure was there. Her mind was trying to tell her to run and scream and basically just get the hell out of there, but she couldn't. It was like he'd locked her into place, forcing her to look at him and sing with him.

_Angel of Music _

_ Guide and Guardian _

_ Grant to me your glory_

_ Angel of Music hide no longer_

_ Come to me strange Angel_

This time he responded with a different melody, but yet one even more entrancing. He stepped out of the mirror, and held his hand for her to take. He repeated the chant three times, each time pulling her further into his unknown world. By the end, she was beyond any chance of being brought back into reality unless he willed it. But she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to go back.

_I am your Angel of Music_

_ Come to me Angel of Music_

_ I am your Angel of Music _

_ Come to me Angel of Music_

_ I am your Angel of Music_

_ Come to your Angel of Music_

By the third reprisal, she wasn't on the stage, surrounded by the set of the Phantom's lair. She was there, surrounded by the glow of the candles and her Angel's haunting voice. His hand made contact with hers and music flooded her ears. The beginning of a song she knew better than the back of her hand. He released her hand, and she stood there, singing only for him. He simply watched her, a fire in his eyes she couldn't name.

_In sleep he sang to me_

_ In dreams he came_

_ That voice which calls to me_

_ And speaks my name_

_ And do I dream again_

_ For now I find_

_ The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_ Inside my mind._

The key of the song changed to a lower one as her Angel began to sing with her. He stepped closer, tracing along her collar bone and going as far to caress her throat.

_Sing once again with me_

_ Our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_Grows stronger yet_

He gently guided her head so that she was facing away from him, singing into her neck. He then pulled her back to look at him, eyelids drooping as if she was only half awake. Her mouth was slightly open as he sang to her, bringing her close so that his lips hovered over hers.

_And though you turn from me_

_To glance behind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your mind_

Their position remained as she answered him. He stared intently into her dark brown doe eyes as she sang. She lifted up a hand towards his mask and gently caressed it, not daring to remove it.

_Those who have seen you're face _

_Draw back in fear_

_I am the mask you wear_

He took her hand in his own, bringing it so that her wrist was before his lips. He pressed his lips against her skin, letting them linger without actually kissing her.

_It's me they hear_

He brought their now entwined hands in front of her as he stood behind her. He clasped their hands tightly together, gliding them up into the air symbolizing their voices soaring from within them as they sang together for the first time.

_Your/my spirit and my/your voice_

_In one combined_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside my/your mind_

He released her and stood just as he had before, watching her. Only now he was singing, and the ever present burning in his eyes was more intense than ever.

_In all your fantasies_

_ You always knew_

_ That man and mystery_

_ Were both in you_

May finished the phrase. He walked closer to her and they sang. He took her hands in his own and spun her in slow circle.

_And in this labyrinth_

_ Where night is blind_

_ The Phantom of the Opera is here/there_

_ Inside my/your mind_

_My Angel of Music!_

_ He's there, the Phantom of the Opera!_

_ Sing!_

He commanded her, and she obeyed. The notes flowed from her mouth as she sang for him. He stepped behind her, taking her in and observing her as she sang.

_Sing!_

He yelled more forcefully now, and she sang a higher set of notes. She couldn't help but do as he told her. It didn't even feel as though she was being forced. She wanted to sing for him. To please him.

_Sing!_

And she sang higher.

_ Sing!_

And even higher still. She repeated the same notes several time, though she knew he wanted her to sing higher. She feared her voice wouldn't hold out and she would fail him. She couldn't risk it. But he wouldn't let her win.

_Sing for me!_

And May Vincent sang the highest note she was capable of before collapsing to the ground in exhaustion.


	6. Core of My Addicton

Chapter 6: Core of My Addiction

_Chapter inspired by Core of My Addiction by Fireflight_

_I'm aching, transparent_

_Your eyes see right through me_

_I'm dependent and shaking_

_I'm falling to my knees_

_And I can't contain this_

_You're the only one I need_

_I'm hooked and I cannot hide it_

_Your love's controlling me_

_You're the core of my addiction_

_I want to live, want to lose myself in you_

_You're the heart of my obsession_

_I want to live, but I would die for you_

_I'm addicted_

_Impulsive, enraptured_

_This yearning's captured me_

_I'm determined, I'm not pretending_

_You are my destiny_

_I can feel the freedom_

_You're the only one I need_

_I'm alive and finally breathing_

_You're my recovery_

_God, I've waited for this day_

_I'll never run away_

_And you won't have to chase me_

_I'm addicted_

_I'm addicted to you_

Erik's eyes followed her as she collapsed and laid unconscious on the ground. He hadn't meant to push her that far, he supposed he was simply enraptured in the sound of her voice and was caught up in the heat of the moment. He remained staring at her until he sensed someone approaching. Pressed for time, Erik quickly swept May up and ran, not wanting someone to find her unconcious ruin this for the both of them.

Before he could stop himself, he had taken her back to his home. He entered the house and went straight for his music room, setting her down on the black leather sofa inside. He stepped back to gaze at her once again, still not believing what had happened mere moments before. Erik unfolded the soft red plush blanket lying on top of the couch, and spread it over May, who immediately welcomed the warmth by pulling it up around her shoulders in her sleep. He couldn't help but smile at this, finding the gesture nothing short of adorable. Erik reached up to gently tuck a stray hair behind her ear, so as not to wake her. When she smiled softly, Erik knew that he could die know and die happy. How was he not able to make Christine smile with such a meaningless gesture? No matter. That was in the past and May was in the present. He wasn't sure what it was, but whatever he was doing, he was doing it right, so far.

He turned and walked over to the piano, playing for what seemed the hundredth time since the day before, the song he'd composed after hearing May sing for the first time. Erik played softly at first, checking May every few moments and making sure he hadn't woken her. As he continued, he grew more comfortable and played louder. It seemed that May was either drowning out the sounds or was enjoying the music. She never once woke up, even for a moment, and Erik carried on as if he was alone.

After about another hour of composing, Erik heard May begin to stir in her sleep as if she was waking up. Which she was. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. If she woke up and saw him there, she would probably think he'd kidnapped her. After all, to her, Erik was basically the guy who'd spied on her singing and she did not like that. However, she did also believe that the Angel of Music had leaped straight from the musical and into her world. Could he convince yet another person that he was an angel sent to teach them? Would things end the way they had the last time he'd tried? Probably not, Erik reasoned, most of that was circumstantial, anyways. However there still was the possibility it could. After all May was a pretty girl.

He continued to battle with himself, contemplating how to approach the situation. Finally his mind had been made up.

He bolted to his room, taking the key he'd hidden underneath his desk and kneeling before the trunk he kept in his room. Erik unlocked it and lifted the lid, revealing many items and documents he'd rather not see again. He dug and searched until his hand met with cold porcelain. He lifted the item from the chest, and closed the lid, locking it shut again and returning the key to its hiding place.

Erik returned to the music room to find May awake and sitting up, most likely trying to find some clue as to where she was. He stepped into the room and gazed upon her for a moment before clearing his throat to get her attention.

May turned her head to find the source of the noise. What she saw, she half expected, though she kept telling herself that everything had just been a dream. She'd hoped that it wasn't and that she'd truly been visited by the Angel of Music. A man dressed in an entirely black suit and cape stood before her. His overall appearance was threatening, but his eyes displayed a fondness that seemed to mix with sadness and pain. His hair was dark, though she wasn't sure if it was black or just a very dark brown. His eyes were a fiery gold that she found absolutely beautiful. He was staring straight through her and down into her soul and she let him. Then her eyes focused on the piercingly white half mask he wore and she ached with curiosity to see for herself, what was behind it.

An awkward silence filled the room and the two remained staring at each other. Erik's heart stopped when May stood and walked around the couch and towards him. She stopped about a foot in front of him, and he wasn't sure if he was uncomfortable with her closeness or upset that she hadn't completely closed the distance between them. Erik breathed in a deep breath as he looked down at her, being a great deal taller than she was. May noticed this and for the first time felt somewhat intimidated by him. Their eyes never broke contact, though each wanted desperately to tear their eyes away. Finally, May gathered the courage to speak.

"Hello." She said flatly yet in a polite way.

"Hello." He responded, stiffening even more. Even her speaking voice was musical. It was beautiful. He still wasn't able to understand it. Even more so, he couldn't understand his obsession and devotion to Christine now that he'd met May. She hadn't even been trained in any way yet and she was already incredible.

Another silence occurred, though it was very brief.

"Who are you?" Though she felt she already had a good understanding of who he was.

"Who do you think I am?" He responded, not wanting to contradict what she already believed about him. Whatever it was, she wasn't afraid of it. She wasn't afraid of him and Erik planned to use that to his advantage.

"I know who you are." May said confidently after a moment of thought. Erik's heart leapt into his throat. He hoped more than anything that she hadn't recognized him from their two short meetings prior to this one.

"You're him." She said with a hint of what Erik believed to fondness and appreciation. "You're the angel from my dream."

Erik breathed out a sigh of relief as he visibly relaxed. With the way she was looking at him, how could he not? She barely knew him yet gazed upon him as though they had known each other since birth. May felt a connection to him, and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as they continued to stand before one another. Erik's eyes widened in shock and surprise that he'd made her smile just by being in her presence. He'd never been able to do that before. A smile soon appeared to match hers.

"Yes." He confessed, still smiling, "but more importantly, I'm a teacher. I want to teach you, May." He said, serious, though the smile remained present.

"A voice teacher…" May breathed, not believing this was seriously happening. Not only was she finally going to have a professional help her, but it was the Angel of Music. The angel she'd dreamed of meeting for as long as she could remember.

"Yes." He said again, unable to manage more than simple words. She was going to say yes and he knew it. She looked so happy at the idea and he marveled at it. So much had changed since his time at the Poulaire.

"Why me?" May asked, sounded incredibly surprised. Erik just looked at her in confusion.

"Because you're amazing." He said, honestly. His choice of words was to be the death of him though, as the phrase sparked recognition and May knew she'd met him before. Where, she didn't know. But they had met nonetheless.

"_You're amazing."_ The same voice echoed through her mind as she tried to remember who it was. She looked up at his face to attempt to recognize some of his features. It was an odd phenomenon for she felt as if she remembered him and knew who he was, but it was almost like she didn't want to know.

Little did she know that any of that, remembering who Erik really was, was beyond her control. As long as things were as delicate as they were at the moment, Erik would never reveal himself to her. He couldn't chance at ruining his opportunity at a second chance.

May blinked at him, still not having answered Erik's question. Though the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel rushed, he was growing impatient.

"You try my patience, May." He said as calmly as possible, though a hint of annoyance seeped through. "Do you not want my help?"

"No!" May said quickly. "No, I do."

"Well, then." He said, moving from in front of her and towards his piano, "let us begin."

They'd been working for almost an hour before Erik let May take a water break.

"If you want to sing, you must stay hydrated." He'd said. She didn't want to question him, and, to be honest, she could use a glass of water.

While what he'd told her was true, he also needed a moment to recap, and think about what had just happened. He let her venture out of his sight and into the kitchen before letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and running a hand through his hair. He thought over what they'd worked on in the short period of time they'd been together. For a beginner, she was very good. Extremely good. The lack of experience and knowledge was apparent to someone like him, but to a common person, she would have sounded professional. She was passionate about it, he could tell. It was a passion driven by two forces, one of which was an obvious love of music, the other something he couldn't name quite yet. After all, May and himself were still practically strangers. He would need to get to know her better if they wanted to continue this way and actually benefit from the work.

Practicality aside, Erik allowed the memories of her voice flood his mind. They'd worked on songs from Phantom of the Opera after he'd expressed his desire for her to take on the part of Christine in Erin's absence. She captured the innocence Christine had possessed perfectly, but he felt that was natural for her. It was a trait that definitely played in her favor. But, forgetting that, Erik focused on the sound of her voice. Just like the first time he'd heard her sing, there was clarity and resonance and so much emotion behind it. But now having heard it for the second time, he was able to fully register the sound of it. Her voice…

Her voice!

It was like nothing he'd ever experienced, not even with Christine, though he was slightly hesitant to admit that to himself. He'd doubted the rushed choices he'd made that night, posing once again as the Angel of Music, but all his worries had vanished now. He knew the best way to work with her would be to keep this distance between them, the gap between mortal and angel. He would have complete control over what she would eventually sound like, but he would have to remain distant, which he feared might present itself as a problem. Making sure that May remained unaware of his true identity wouldn't be too much of a problem, so long as he continued to keep her under the influence of his abilities and she didn't get too curious. But he would have to keep himself in check and keep from pushing her too far again.

May had to search around the kitchen for a moment before finding the glasses. She took one out and stepped over to the refrigerator's built in water filter and pushed the glass against the button. As the water filled the cup, she too took a moment to consider everything that had happened in such a short amount of time.

The last thing she vividly remembered was being in the auditorium at school, working on the set with Jason, the rest was still there, but it was hazy. It was like she was half asleep the entire time, and to be honest, she might have been. She looked over at the clock _on_ the oven. It was midnight exactly. Suddenly she forgot about the lessons or the fact an angel was waiting for her to return to the other room. All she was focused on now was getting home before her parents did.

She quickly walked back into the music room and began to gather her bag and other belongings that got somewhat scattered around the room.

"I'm so sorry! My parents are gonna kill me if I'm not home when they get there." She began to walk towards the door.

"Wait!" He'd called out to her, moving so that he was standing in front of her. "Where do you live?"

"1701 Maple…" She said hesitantly. "Why?"

"Close your eyes." Erik said, as he held his hands out to her.

"Why?" She repeated, beginning to remember that she didn't truly know this man… or angel in this case.

"Trust me." He said as he captured her gaze with his own and stared down at her with golden eyes.

It wasn't of her own free will that she closed her eyes. It also wasn't of her own free will that she all but collapsed only to be caught and carried out of the room by the strange angel.

May woke up to a dark and empty room. Her room. She looked around, and saw her window was open. May got out of her bed and went over to the window, placing her hands on the window pane and leaning out of the opening to gaze out. Once she was certain there was no one outside her house, she pulled back and closed the window. She turned and returned to her bed, and, upon sitting on the mattress, discovered an unknown object that clearly went unnoticed until just then. May turned on the lamp on her bedside table, and discovered that there was a rose, fully bloomed with petals the color of blood that looked as though they were made of silk. Attached a silky white ribbon, and next to the flower, a note. She picked up the folded piece of paper, and read the words written in flowing script.

_May, _

_ A small reward for all of your hard work tonight. You truly are very talented. I will be in touch_

The messenger hadn't signed the note, but May knew exactly who it was. For a moment she'd believed the whole thing to be a dream. But how could a figment of her imagination produce a rose and a note in the real world? She lifted the flowered and breathed in the scent. Roses had always been her favorite flower. She adored the color, and the softness of their petals, and of course she adored the smell.

May placed the flower back down on the bedside table, looking down at it once more to admire it. Just before she turned over to sleep, she glanced at her alarm clock on the bedside table.

It was still midnight.

Her astonishment and confusion were over ruled by her tiredness as her eyelids began to droop. She managed to turn the lamp off before falling asleep once again.

Erik paced the room, he didn't know why, though. He assumed he was just being possessive of May, he wanted her here working on her singing. But he also considered it might be something else. His parting gift to her. The rose. He wondered if he'd made a poor choice in doing that. After all, the rose was a sign of love, or at the very least affection of some sort, and he didn't want to scare her by leading her to think he might have alternative intentions to the ones she already believed he had. But perhaps the note would balance it out. He'd kept it simple enough. But still. Besides that, she might not even like roses. Or maybe she was allergic…

He stopped pacing. What was he doing? He was acting how he looked. Young, naïve, foolish, things he was not. He'd been right. May would be the death of him.

Out of the corner he spotted something that did not belong. He turned to examine the object, May's jacket from earlier. Erik walked over to the couch and picked up the article of clothing. He would need to return it to her, but for the moment it was his. He could smell May' scent that had been trapped in the fabric of the jacket. He held it close to himself, hugging it like it was a living being.

May was his addiction and he was no longer afraid or ashamed to admit it. She was his new muse after going so long without one. And she was to be the death of him.

But at least he would die happy.


End file.
